Chapter XXX
_In the Hills_
Lorry's return to the mountains was somewhat of a disappointment to hisexpectations. Dorothy had greeted him quite casually and naturallyenough, in that she knew nothing of his recent venture. He was againintroduced to Mrs. Weston and her daughter. For the first time Dorothyheard of the automobile accident and Lorry's share in the subsequentproceedings. She asked Lorry why he had not told her that he knew theWestons. He had no reply save "Oh, I don't know," which rather piquedDorothy. He was usually definite and frank.
The Westons occupied Bronson's cabin with Dorothy. Bronson pitched atent, moved his belongings into it, and declared himself, jokingly, freefrom Dorothy's immediate tyranny.
Dorothy, busy in the kitchen, asked her father to invite Lorry to dinnerthat evening. Through a sort of youthful perverseness not unmixed withbucolic pride, Lorry declined the invitation. He would be busy makingready for another trip in the hills. He had already planned his ownevening meal. He appreciated the invitation, but they could get alongwithout him. These excuses satisfied Bronson. Lorry's real reason fordeclining was that Dorothy had not invited him in person. He knew it,and felt ashamed of himself. What reason had he to expect her to invitehim personally, except that she had almost invariably done soheretofore? And back of this was the subtle jealousy of caste. TheWestons were "her kind of folks." He was not really one of them.Boyishly he fancied that he would do as a companion when there was noone else available. He was very much in love with Dorothy and did notrealize it.
And Dorothy was disappointed in him. She had wanted the Westons to knowwhat a really fine fellow he was.
Alice Weston at once recalled Lorry's attitude toward her on a formeroccasion when he had been tacitly invited to go with them to theHorseshoe Hills and he had stayed at the hotel. She told Dorothy thatMr. Adams was not to be taken too seriously. After all, he was nothingmore than a boy, and perhaps he would feel better, having declined torisk possible embarrassment at their table.
Dorothy was inwardly furious on the instant, but she checked herself.What did Alice Weston know about Lorry? Well, Alice knew that he was agood-looking young savage who seemed quite satisfied with himself. Shethought that possibly she could tame him if she cared to try. Dorothy,with feminine graciousness, dared Alice to invite Lorry to the dinner.Alice was to know nothing of his having declined an earlier invitation.Greatly to Dorothy's surprise, Alice Weston accepted the challenge.
She waited until just before the dinner hour. Lorry was mending apack-saddle when she came to his cabin. He dropped his work and stoodup.
"I have been thinking about that tramp you arrested," she began. "And Ithink you were right in what you did."
"Yes, ma'am," stammered Lorry.
Her manner had been especially gracious.
"And I didn't have a chance to say good-bye--that time"--and shesmiled--"when you rode off waving your scarf--"
"It was a leg of lamb," corrected Lorry.
"Well, you waved it very gracefully. What big, strong arms! They don'tlook so big when your sleeves are down."
Lorry promptly rolled down his sleeves. He felt that he had to dosomething.
"And there is so much to talk about I hardly know where to begin. Oh,yes! Thank you so much for repairing our car."
"That was nothin'."
"It meant a great deal to us. Is that your horse--the one standing aloneover there?"
"Yes, ma'am. That's Gray Leg."
"I remember him. I couldn't ever forget that morning--but I don't wantto hinder your work. I see you are mending something."
"Just fittin' a new pad to this pack-saddle. I was figurin' to lightout to-morrow."
"So soon? That's too bad. But, then, we can visit at dinner thisevening. Dorothy said she expected you. I believe it is almost ready."
"I don't know, Miss Weston. It's like this--"
"And I know Mr. Bronson meant to ask you. He has been quite busy.Perhaps he forgot."
"He--"
"So I am here as ambassador. Will I do?"
"Why, sure! But--"
"And mother would be so disappointed if you didn't come. So should I,especially as you are leaving to-morrow. What is it they say in Mexico,'Adios'? I must run back."
She proffered her hand gracefully. Lorry shook hands with her. She gavehis fingers a little, lingering squeeze that set his pulses racing. Shewas a mighty pretty girl.
"We shall expect you," she called, halfway to the cabin.
And she sure could change a fellow's mind for him without half trying.She hadn't given him a chance to refuse her invitation. She just knewthat he was coming to supper. And so did he.
Alice Weston held Lorry's attention from the beginning, as she hadintended. She was gowned in some pale-green material touched here andthere with a film of lace. Lorry was fascinated by her full, roundedarms, her beautifully strong wrists, and by the way in which she hadarranged her heavy, dark hair. In the daylight that afternoon he hadnoticed that her eyes were blue. He had thought them brown. But theywere the color of wood violets untouched by the sun. While she lackedthe positive outdoor coloring of Dorothy, her complexion was radiantwith youth and health. Lorry felt subdued, disinclined to talk despiteDorothy's obvious attempts to be entertaining. He realized that Dorothywas being exceedingly nice to him, although he knew that she was alittle high-strung and nervous that evening.
After dinner Bronson and Lorry smoked out on the veranda. When theothers came out, Bronson suggested that they have some music. Lorrypromptly invited them to his cabin.
"Alice plays wonderfully," said Dorothy.
Bronson, talking with Mrs. Weston, enjoyed himself. He had been isolatedso long that news from the "outside" interested him.
Lorry, gravely attentive to the playing, happened to glance up. Dorothywas gazing at him with a most peculiar expression. He flushed. He hadnot realized that he had been staring at Alice Weston; at her round,white throat and graceful arms. But just then she ceased playing.
"Have you any music that you would like?" she asked Lorry.
"There's some here. I don't know what it's like. Some songs and dancesthe boys fetched up for Bud."
"What fun!" said Alice. "And what an assortment! Shall we try this?"
And she began to play a flimsy tune printed on a flimsy sheet thatdoubled and slid to the keys. Lorry jumped up, spread it out, and stoodholding a corner of it while she played. Close to her, he was sensibleof a desire to caress her hair, to kiss her vivid lips as she glanced upat him and smiled. He had no idea then that she was deliberatelyenthralling him with every grace she possessed.
The fact that she rather liked him made her subtleties all the morepotent. It flattered her to see the frank admiration in his gray eyes.She knew he was anything but "soft," which made the game all the morealluring. He was to leave soon--to-morrow. Meanwhile, she determinedthat he should remember her.
Late that evening Bronson and the others said good-night. Alice, notDorothy, asked Lorry when he was to leave. His "some time to-morrow"sounded unnaturally indefinite.
He was standing in the doorway of his camp as the others enteredBronson's cabin. Alice Weston was the last to enter. For an instant shestood in the lamplight that floated through the doorway, looking backtoward him. Impulsively he waved good-night. Her attitude had seemed tocall for it. He saw her fingers flash to her lips. She tilted her chinand threw him a kiss.
"Dog-gone the luck!" he growled as he entered his cabin. And with thebrief expletive he condemned his disloyalty to the sprightly, slenderDorothy; the Peter Pan of the Blue Mesa; the dream girl of that idlenoon at the Big Spring. The other girl--well, she was just playing withhim.
* * * * *
In view of Lorry's training and natural carefulness it was especiallysignificant that he decided next day that he had forgotten to lay inenough supplies for his journey south. He would ride to Jason and packin what he needed. He had a fair excuse. Bronson had recently borrowedsome of his c
anned provisions. He was well on his way to Jason thatmorning before the others had arisen.
He was back at the camp shortly after nine that night. As he passedBronson's cabin he saw a light in the window. Mrs. Weston was talkingwith Dorothy. Lorry had hoped to catch a glimpse of Alice Weston. He hadbeen hoping all that day that he would see her again before he left.Perhaps she was asleep.
As he passed the corral a greeting came from the darkness:--
"Good-evening! I thought you had gone."
"I--I didn't see you," he stammered.
Alice Weston laughed softly. "Oh, I was just out here looking at thestars. It's cooler out here. Then you changed your mind about going?"
"Nope. I had to go to Jason for grub. I'm going to-morrow."
"Oh, I see! We thought you had gone."
"Got a headache?" queried Lorry.
Her voice had been so unnaturally low, almost sad.
"No. I just wanted to be alone."
Lorry fumbled in his pockets. "I got the mail," he stated.
"I'll give it to Mr. Bronson."
Lorry leaned down and gave her the packet of letters and papers.
"Good-bye. I won't see you in the mornin'"
"We'll miss you."
"Honest?"
"Of course!" And she gave him her hand.
He drew his foot from the stirrup. "Put your foot in there," he said,still holding her hand.
"But why?"
"'Cause I'm goin' to ride off with you, like in books." He laughed, buthis laughter was tense and unnatural.
It was dark. The stars shone faintly. The air was soft with a subtlefragrance; the fragrance of sun-warmed pine that the night had stolenfrom the slumbering woodlands. She slipped her foot in the wide stirrup.Half laughing, she allowed him to draw her up. She felt the hardstrength of his arm, and was thrilled. She had not meant to do anythinglike this.
"You been playin' with me," he told her, whispering, "and I take mypay."
She turned her face away, but he found her lips and crushed her to him.
"Oh!" she whispered as he kissed her again and again.
Slowly his arm relaxed. White-faced and trembling, she slid to theground and stood looking up at him.
"I hate you!" she said.
"No, you don't," said Lorry quite cheerfully.
And he reached out his hand as though to take her hand again.
She stood still, making no effort to avoid him. Then--"No, please!" shebegged.
Lorry sat for a moment looking down at her. There had been nomake-believe on her part when he held her in his arms. He knew that. Andnow? She had said that she hated him. Perhaps she did for having madeher do that which she had never dreamed of doing. But he told himselfthat he could stand a whole lot of that kind of hate. And did he reallycare for her? Could a girl give what she had given and forget on themorrow? He would never forget.
She had told herself that he should have reason to remember her.
After he had gone she stood gazing across the starlit mesa. She heardLorry whistling cheerily as he unsaddled his pony. A falling star flamedand faded across the night.